Hurt Me
by PagetPaulson
Summary: She never thought it would be her child to bear the brunt of his anger.
1. Chapter 1

Emily tuned out the calls of her husband as she wrapped her arms as tight as she could around her daughter. After hearing that familiar scream from the front yard when her brother and her would start to fight, the parents had run out into the yard, and their five year old was nowhere to be found. The brunette couple had enlisted the entire town and police force to help them search the neighborhood and others nearby, and the little girl was finally found only a couple hours later hiding in the woods just behind their home.

"Claire? Claire why did you leave?" her father rushed out, falling to his knees beside his two favorite women. "Where did you think you were going, piccola? You know you don't leave the house without your mother or I."

Emily shook her head and looked to her husband with her dark eyes, feeling her daughter cry into her chest. This was not something to discuss at the moment.

"Daddy," Claire rushed out, her big doe eyes looking up from her mother's chest to see the older man looing at her with his worried gaze. "I'm sorry, daddy."

"Claire, why did you go?"

The five year old rushed into her father's arms and cried into his shirt, unaware of her mother on the ground behind her, wiping her tears away. "He was nice, daddy."

David Rossi pulled back. "He? Who's he?"

"The man!"

Emily quickly pulled her daughter to her chest as her husband ran over to the other officers and agents that surrounded their house. "Baby," the brunette woman whispered, kissing her daughter's forehead that was beaded with sweat. "Sweetheart, who was the man?"

The five year old shrugged her shoulders, letting her mother brush away her tears with the sleeve of her dress. "I don't know."

"What did he look like?"

Claire gave that famous face that let her mother know she was doing her best to think of the right answer, and the five year old just shook her head. "He's got dark hair."

Picking up her eldest, Emily carried the sniffling girl to their porch and looked to her husband. "Where's the sketch artist? We need her to give us a good description." No one was going to try and kidnap any of the Prentiss-Rossi children and get away with it.

They picked the wrong family to mess with.

Rossi ran his fingers through the ends of his daughter's long ebony hair and waited for the sketch to finally be completed. His wife was just in the other room, their fifteen month old son bouncing on her hip as she spoke to her mother on the phone. If there was anyone would could help, it was Ambassador Prentiss. They had already put an APB out for the kidnapper, telling all the news and radio stations to look for any dark haired male who was driving a dark blue van that Claire said the man was driving.

"Thank you." Emily quickly hung up her phone and gathered her friends around in the living room. "Alright, my mother sent out a dozen of her finest, and she contacted every department in the state. There are officers at all entrees and exits of the state line so if he hasn't gotten out already, he won't be able to." There had been a series of kidnappings in the area and the D.C police had thought they had caught the offender, but apparently not.

"Em!"

The brunette woman turned, letting her daughter crash into her legs and hug her around her stomach. "What is it?"

Rossi stood from his chair and handed the sketch to his wife, watching as her eyes widened at seeing the face that was drawn. "Look familiar?" he asked softly.

"No," she whispered, her hand shaking as she eyes flickered over every inch of the pencil drawing. "This can't be right."

JJ came up behind the pair and looked at the sketch, anxious to get the piece of paper in her hand and show it to the news trucks and cameras that were stationed outside the mansion. "Guys?"

"Emily, I'm sorry."

Emily shoved the paper in her friend's direction before kneeling on the hardwood floors, quickly taking her daughter into her arms. "You're ok," she whispered fearfully, her eyes stinging with tears as she smoothed her daughters dark curls down. "Mommy and daddy are here for you." Gently pulling back and ignoring the hussle around her, Emily looked into her daughter's eyes. "Why didn't you tell mommy that grandpa tried to take you?"

Claire fidgeted in her mother's hold. "Grandpa scared me, mommy," the five year old whispered.

Hotch looked between his two best friends as Emily stood from the ground, hating the sight of the brunette woman wiping away her tears. "What do you mean 'grandpa'? What's going on here?"

The ambassador's daughter gave her blond friend a nod to let her know she could go and inform the press stationed outside her house, and she folded her arms across her chest. "It's my father," her voice husked, looking to her boss with hard eyes. "He's supposed to be in Belgium, but I guess he thought it would be better to come and give us a visit."

"I thought he was in jail."

Dismissing her friend with a shake of the head, Emily sniffled. "He was convicted and sentenced to twenty years. He got out seven months ago."

Rossi held his wife to his side. "We have a protective order against him," he informed his best friend.

"Which obviously doesn't do shit," Emily hissed, fighting off her husband's arms so she could go and wrangle her kids in the living room. "We're gonna go to bed, ok?"

Claire's bottom lip quivered. "You mad, mommy?"

The brunette hiked both children onto her hips and let her daughter hide her face in her neck. "Not at you, baby," she almost growled, unable to hide her anger as she climbed the stairs to the second floor. "Not at you."


	2. Chapter 2

Storming up the front walk, the furious mother of two could barely contain her boiling blood. It hadn't been enough that he had taken the innocence and lives of dozens of girls, but to go after his own granddaughter? How did he even know she existed? The Rossi family had done their best to keep it a secret, but someone must have messed up somewhere along the line.

Not even bothering to knock, the brunette woman threw the front door to the secluded cabin open and made her way inside.

A gun sounded from down the hall. "I'm armed!"

Emily could have grinned, and she took her gun from her holster. "You think I don't know that? You are my father, after all," she stated sourly, watching as the grey haired man stepped out of what she assumed was his reading room with a hunting rifle pointed directly at her. "I think I've gotten to know you and your tactics pretty well."

The midnight eyed man gave the agent a sickening smile. "Emmy baby."

Emily shrugged her shoulders. "Although, I may have misjudged you. Coming to my house and trying to kidnap my daughter? That's a pretty bold move."

William looked to his daughter with those haunting eyes that had burned themselves into Emily's mind. "She looks just like you kiddo," he nodded. "Though, that husband of yours looks pretty similar to you. You do that on purpose?"

"What was it, dad? The fact that you're stuck up here all by yourself and there are no other girls for you to get at? Those ones you raped and murdered all those years ago, did the ecstasy you felt from those crimes finally wear off?"

William took a few steps forward. "I don't think you realize how strong our genes are," he laughed, looking to the woman he had helped bring into the world. "That little girl of yours sure looks like you. Just like you."

Emily felt her chin tremble. "I wasn't enough for you?" the mother of two seethed quietly. "I wasn't enough to fill your sick fantasies that you went out and killed all those girls, and then you go after my daughter? She's just five years old."

"You were seven," the crippling man shrugged with his big innocent eyes. "Not a big difference."

"She's my daughter!"

William smiled to the forty year old woman and shook his head. "And my precious granddaughter. You know, I had to find out about her and your son in the newspaper." Seeing her surprise, the older man gestured to the stack of papers on his desk near the door with a free hand. "I get them all delivered by a very good friend, beautiful little boy, and you know I'm very proud of you. Injured a couple times on the job, huh baby angel?"

Emily kept her hard eyes on the man, practically skin and bones, who had his gun pointed straight for her.

"Very nice house you have," he whispered, stare as blank as could be. "All that room? Enough for another little one to run around?"

The FBI agent felt her arms start to strain, the gun in her hand gripped hard. "Twins," she whispered. "Four months along."

William wore a sickening smile on his face. "Beautiful," the father of one grinned. "I hope they're girls."

Emily heard the sound of sirens roaring up the path that led from town to the mountain, and her stance stiffened. "Tell me why. Why my daughter? Why any of those girls?" she hissed, forcing the tears in her eyes to run back. "Why didn't you just stick with me?"

"Oh darling, you were only young for a short time. I didn't need you anymore."

The mother of two shook her head, hearing the calls of her team echo through the trees outside. "You sick bastard," the brunette woman growled. "If it weren't for your status, you'd be frying in the electrocution chair."

William kept his gaze glued to his daughter's as the FBI barged into his cabin, the one place he thought he would be protected by all those he knew were out to get him. "Lucky for me," he laughed. "I got out just in time to meet your beautiful family."

Emily felt her husband walk up behind her, and she knew none had their guns drawn.

"You're just as beautiful as you were," her father said almost whimsically. "It's sad, though. If only you were a little younger."

A shot rang through the air, Emily's eyes never leaving her father's as the bullet shot through his skull and he fell to the floor. She didn't flinch as those around her started to call for an ambulance and walk from the cabin, nor did she when her husband lowered her leveled gun and set a hand to her shoulder.

Her battle was finally over.

"Good riddance."


End file.
